Page 46 of Hot for Teacher
But Chase wasn’t Noah or Spencer. He was just himself, and he smiled and nodded and wondered why it never changed, and why he was stupid enough to hold out hope that it would.
Dinner lasted forever. The meal itself was four courses, and then there was dessert, and after-dinner coffee. Chase wasn’t sure why they were lingering—maybe some deeply buried guilt over them not caring that he was there at all?
Or maybe his father just really wanted a coffee.
“You can get your own car back, can’t you, son?” his father asked when they’d finally made their way outside again. “Your mother’s worn out. We need to get back to our hotel.”
Chase hadn’t driven himself. He’d been dropped off by Spencer at his parents’ request. They’d claimed they wanted to drive him back themselves and see the state of the house, check in on their investment. He hadn’t questioned why they couldn’t have picked him up too.
Chase just nodded. “Yeah, I can find my way.”
His mother blew a kiss that was maybe supposed to be aimed his way, but she was already turning to the valet approaching with the car. “I told you about summer, right, darling?”
“Yes. I’ll stay here.”
His father clapped him on the back. “We’ll see you for Christmas, son.”
Apparently Thanksgiving was out, then. Chase idly wondered where they’d be for it as he stood there, watching them drive off.
His eyes were dry but weirdly hot as he pulled up the rideshare app on his phone. He wished he had his cap to tug down, but baseball hats weren’t polite for dinner, as he’d been told many times in the past.
Before he could think too hard about it, he swiped out of the app and hit Killian’s name instead.
Killian picked up immediately. “When are you coming over?” he asked before Chase could even greet him, his voice gruff with impatience. “I’ve been waiting too long, sweet boy.”
It was oddly painful, to have his presence craved so badly after barely feeling like a person for the last three hours. Like Chase’swhole body was pins and needles after being numb for too long. He had the strange desire to hang up.
But he didn’t. He couldn’t.
“Actually—” Chase paused, clearing his throat. The words kept getting stuck somewhere on the way out. “Can you come get me?”
Killian didn’t hesitate, and Chase could hear the jingle of him grabbing his keys. “Send me the location. I’m leaving now.”
14
Killian
Killian had maintained the same monthly massage with the same masseuse for coming on two years now.
Tonight, instead of getting scolded for working too many hours hunched over a computer, he’d been told for the very first time that he had fewer knots than usual.
“Whatever relaxation techniques you’ve learned,” his masseuse had said with surprise, “keep them up.”
Killian intended to.
But he also had a feeling—as he broke half a dozen traffic laws speeding to the restaurant where Chase was waiting—that every single knot he’d gotten worked out was now bunched up tightly again.
Chase had sounded … wrong over the phone. Detached in a way that was somehow distressingly different from the beta’s usual cool reserve. It was sending Killian’s instincts spiraling, the need to protect and fix whatever had gone awry.
Killian parked at the curb in front of the restaurant, wavingthe valet off. Before he could unbuckle and leap out of the car dramatically, Chase was already climbing into the passenger seat.
“Thanks for picking me up.”
Killian turned in his seat and took stock as Chase buckled himself in.
His beta still sounded off. Chase’s eyes were dry but glassy, and his expression was oddly blank. He might even have looked serene if Killian hadn’t known him better than that.
For once, Killian wished Chase had pheromones for him to read.
